For a few months running, I made it a ritual to eat lunch at this upscale bar/grille next to the office - they had good food, and a hot bartender.  After having this curly-haired hottie serve me lunch one day, I decided to flirt and give her my number.  A few weeks later she sent me an e-mail asking when I was going to take her out for a drink.  I took her out for dinner and drinks the following week, after her shift ended.  We talked, got hammered, and I finally dropped her back at her car.  When I kissed her goodbye, it was one of those long, drawn-out kisses that says "let's make out and grope each others face for like five minutes, because the next time I see you we're gonna fuck".

That Saturday I took her to a Marlins game.  I had the whole night set-up in my head, and it went just as planned.  She came over to my place before the game, and I showed her my pimp bachelor pad - giving her a little taste of what was in store for later.  She left her car at my complex, and I drove us to the game.  We drank the entire time, making out every now and then.  She had the eyes that said "let's get the fuck out of here so you can rail me".  We left after the post-game concert, and I took her to a hookah bar where we continued to keep our drink on.  After we were both pretty toasty, we headed for home.

After we get back to my pad, she asks if she can borrow a t-shirt.  I give her one, she climbs into bed, and we start hooking up.  I take off her shirt, and start rubbing her crotch over her lace panties.  Shes getting wet and squirming around, and she feels my hard cock up against her body.  I go to take off her panties, and as I'm grabbing them with both hands, she immediately pulls back and says "No, please, don't try to have sex with me."  I'm like, "What's wrong?"  She moves me off of her, sits up, and starts hysterically crying.  In my head I'm like "o fuck, what the hell is wrong with this chick.  I just worked so hard on the perfect date which was about to have the perfect ending, and this chick is crying."

So I'm patting her on the back, trying to console her, telling her I don't care if we have sex tonight (even though I planned to try again in 5 minutes).   And then she says it, "Okay,  I guess this is gonna either make or break the relationship, so I'm just gonna come out and say it...I have an STD."  I start thinking, 'please not aids, please not aids.'  She says, "My boyfriend cheated on my 6 years ago and gave me genital warts."  I'm like, "okay no worries, it's okay....hey listen, I have to blow my nose, I'll be right back."...I get into the bathroom, and START SCRUBBING THE FUCK OUT OF MY HANDS."  I mean, I'm a nice guy and all, but I wasn't about to give up 27 years of being clean for this dirty bartender.

She's like, "now I feel weird, maybe I should go."  Without hesitation I say, "Yea, you probably should."

Lesson Learned: Look before you leap!